The Ties that Bind
by PinkJinx876
Summary: As Snow White travels with the Huntsman deep into the depths of the forest and the lands beyond, can the man who was sent to capture her heart instead win it for his own? As she begins to feel an irresistable pull towards the Huntsman, can she so easily stray from her fairy tale fate that seems engraved in stone? Rated M, no dwarves, SW x Eric
1. The Journey Begins

**~Ties that Bind ~**

**By pinkjinx876**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Story of Snow White, nor that of Snow White and the Huntsman.**

**This story will have some steamy moments; I will say that from the start.**

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Four days.

It had been four long and treacherous days since she had escaped the evil Queen's clutches; four arduous days since Snow White had entered the dark forest. The Huntsman had been with her nearly every step, after he had nearly ended her life, and then miraculously saved it instead.

Snow White did not understand why.

She still did not trust him, nor did he trust her. Their alliance was formed not out of a mutual trust, but a mutual respect and suspicion.

The Huntsman respected Snow White's tenacity and her innocence, and Snow White respected the Huntsman's brute strength and cunning.

Of course, the fact that he could easily snap her limbs and end her life in mere moments was not forgotten by either party.

"You're trouble," grumbled the Huntsman, his heavy Scottish accent making him difficult to understand. He grasped her shoulder hard as her boot hit the rocks at the wrong angle, sending her crashing down to her knees. Dragging her upright once again, he scowled as he heard her small shoulder let out a quiet 'pop'.

He'd hurt her, again.

She deserved a better guide, and he wished he wasn't in such dire need of the money. She had promised him one hundred gold pieces to reach the Duke's castle, and he knew that without this job he would surely starve.

He had been ready to bring her back to the Queen, who had promised him a much more handsome reward; but upon seeing her face, he had been momentarily blinded by her unparalleled beauty. He had been unable to kill her without knowing the reason for the poor girl's unlucky fate.

At first he had believed it when the Queen had promised to bring back his wife as reward for capturing her runaway, but after sobering up somewhat, he admitted to himself that it was an impossible task.

No one could bring the dead back to life.

He had slaughtered her messengers in the forest out of his rage.

His drinking had become out of hand lately, in the month marking the fifth year since his wife had been murdered. The Queen's offer could not have come at a worse time for him, and he was disgusted with himself that he had almost let his grief blind him into sacrificing this young girl's life for Ravenna's twisted agenda.

His guilt had led him to give her his word that they would reach her destination. He felt he had a duty to his wife to up hold, he had to deliver the girl safely to the Duke's castle.

He had almost slit her throat; he was obligated to help the girl.

"Yes, I know I am. You've made that very clear," mumbled Snow White through lightly clenched teeth, righting herself with a bit of difficulty and pushing his large hands off of her shoulder. "Thanks."

He was rough with her, but she had grown to expect no less.

Ten years being locked in a cellar eating nothing but scraps and having been shown little kindness in her life, she had come to expect such treatment.

She did not blame the Huntsman, his sorrows were etched plainly across his face and she knew that she wasn't the source of his troubles.

Moreover, though his touch was rough, she knew he would never purposely hurt her, nor let any harm come to her while she was under his protection. If there was anything she needed most right now, it was protection. She needed him as her guide, he was her only way to reach William.

"Just sayin', is all. You're probably more trouble than you're worth."

Snow White thought about laughing, but knew that as long as he thought of her as a simple prisoner, her identity would remain hidden. She tittered self consciously, tripping over another branch as she did so and nearly falling into a thorn bush. The Huntsman's strong arms righted her yet again, though she could tell he was growing tired of her teetering.

"I…highly doubt that. Thank you, again."

He stopped then, turning around, facing her with an alarmingly quizzical look on his face. She stopped in her tracks, always shocked to see how much larger he was than herself. He towered over her by well over a foot, his weight at least double her own, if not more.

"Are you really so certain of yourself, Prisoner? A young girl like you, what do you know?"

She stared up at him, attempting to look menacing and yet completely sure that she was failing at it.

"I am worth a great deal more than you think, Huntsman."

He took a step towards her and grabbed her arms roughly, lifting her just barely off of her feet so he could look into her face. Her thin legs dangled beneath her, and she tried not to wince at his grip.

He sized her up for some time, and she knew that he was desperately trying to place her face. His eyes lingered over her own, before studying her nose and the curve of her lips. He lingered on her mouth for a few moments before taking in the color of her hair.

She highly doubted he knew anyone who looked like her; she had always thought her looks rather odd and out of place. Most of those in the kingdom had lighter brown hair and tan skin.

It made her painfully self conscious. Where did a wisp of a girl with skin pale as snow, hair black as night, and lips red as blood belong amongst everyone else in the kingdom, with their mousy brown hair and olive toned skin?

She had never looked like any of them.

Her father had constantly told her that she was beautiful, to which she had always laughed. The thought of her father saddened her, as it always did. What would he think of her imprisonment? Of the malicious Ravenna?

She knew that most assumed her to be dead, and after 10 years in captivity, no one would likely remember her as the rightful queen to the kingdom.

Sighing in frustration, the Huntsman set her down, cupping her chin with his gloved fingers and bringing her face up to study her more.

"Who are you? Why does the Queen want you dead?"

"Who I am is none of your concern. It doesn't matter, Huntsman."

He let go of her face and turned abruptly, stalking ahead in such a speed that she had to run a little to catch up. He was angry no doubt, but she couldn't risk it.

As he hiked ahead of her, she watched the way his axe swung lightly back and forth at his side. Yes she was safe with him, but it would be foolish to provoke him any further whilst he had such an advantage over her.

Letting her eyes roam up to his shoulders, where several more weapons as well as a small pack were strung, she couldn't help but glance at the taut muscles rippling across his arms.

She blushed furiously, eyes falling downward to stare pointedly at her feet as she followed him.

As she watched her footsteps, careful not to slip on the moss, she let out a loud yelp as her face suddenly collided with something hard.

"Aye! Watch where you're going! You can't even avoid running into me now?" He barked, and the strong pair of arms holding her up let her know that she had walked straight into him.

"I…I'm terribly sorry. I was lost in thought," she muttered, bringing her eyes up to meet his, aware that the blush had not yet receded back into her cheeks.

He looked at her, face flushed from something he knew not of. Her lips were parted slightly, revealing her pink mouth. As their eyes met, he became aware that her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and he felt a tightening in his stomach that he couldn't identify as they continued to stare at one another, unmoving.

"If you won't tell me who you are…at least tell me this. What shall I call you?" he asked gently, his hands still on her shoulders as his body supported the weight of her own. "Prisoner doesn't really suit you, you know."

She mentally debated giving him a fake name, but felt wrong lying to him.

"Snow," she whispered, as she regained movement in her feet and stood up, breaking eye contact with him and pushing away slightly.

"Is that your real name?"

"Part of it. I won't tell you any more, please do not ask me, Huntsman."

"As you wish…Snow."

He said her name after a slight pause, testing it out. It seemed too formal to him, a name that only someone of extremely high birth would receive. Perhaps she was right, she might very well be worth a great deal. In all his life not once had he met a peasant named Snow.

The Huntsman straightened himself, staring down at her small frame.

He mentally berated himself for being so careless and forceful with her, he could already see a bruise forming on the skin on her shoulder; visible through a tear in her dress.

Another wave of guilt washed over him as he gazed upon the bruise, her milky white flesh marred by its purple and blue streaks. As he wallowed in self pity for a disgustingly long moment, a thought suddenly struck him. She had multiple bruises…but they couldn't possibly be all from him. Some were almost healed…

"What is on your arms?"

She looked up at him, momentarily puzzled.

"Um…Sleeves?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he moved quickly towards her, tearing off her sleeve like he had the length of her dress on the first day.

She gasped in shock, moving away from him, but not quickly enough to prevent him from ripping off her other sleeve, throwing it down in the mud as he stared at her exposed arms.

She was horrified, only a thin strip if fabric about an inch in width kept her shoulders from being completely exposed, and the air was freezing.

"What has she done to you?" he growled, as he looked upon a myriad of cuts and bruised marring her snowy white skin. He could see clearly now, without the fabric of her dress hiding her wrists, the distinct marks indicating she had been shackled for some time. The way that they looked almost permanent, cut deeply into her skin yet completely healed over, pointed to her being imprisoned for years at least.

"What have _you _done to me? There's snow on the ground! How will I stay warm now, Huntsman?" she fumed, stepping towards him and pushing him in the chest.

He was so much larger than her that she only succeeded in pushing herself back, but she kept hitting him lightly in the chest anyways.

Now she would surely freeze!

"I saw your bruises-"

"Which are none of your concern, Huntsman! What _is _your concern though, is to get me to the Duke's castle safely! How do you plan on doing that when you strip me down every few days? This journey will take a month, am I to be left in only my boots by then? How long do you think I'll survive before I freeze now?"

She shivered, reaching down to pick up one of her discarded sleeves.

He took it from her, tearing the leather into two long strips.

"My apologies, Snow. Wrap these around your forearms, you will be warmer. I will barter you some gloves when I can."

He mentally scolded himself for once again making the girl's life harder. She had shackle marks on her arms for God's sake! Why had he been so cruel to her? Why hadn't she said anything? Was she so used to this treatment that it didn't even phase her?

"That's not necessary just…please don't let me freeze out here, Huntsman. Don't ask about the scars either," she added, as she saw his eyes flicker back to her shoulders.

She stepped forward, and waited soundlessly for him to lead the way again.

He inwardly cursed the heavens for allowing someone to harm such an innocent creature, then violently cursed himself for contributing the two largest and newest bruises on her shoulders.

Without her bulky sleeves she looked more delicate than ever, and he felt ashamed at having tossed her about and grabbing her so roughly.

Stepping ahead of her and once again resuming his role as her guide, he vowed to attempt to treat her with a bit more tenderness in the future.

"Ow!" Snow White exclaimed, as her foot hit a root and she stumbled to her knees.

The Huntsman rolled his eyes exasperatedly, helping her up for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

She sure wasn't going to make it easy.

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**What do you think? I am already writing future chapters, so I apologize that it's shorter, but I figured you'd rather have things sooner than wait another few days for me t pump out a beast of a chapter, I'll just split it up!**

**Please review so I can know what you think!**

**GAME: I would like to play a game with this fic. I will include lines from the actual movie (as I have in here, HINT) and references to the Disney Snow White. If you pick up on any of them, leave them in your comment and I will send you a teaser for the next chapter before it goes up! Fun? I think so ;)**


	2. Two Acquaintances

**~Ties that Bind ~**

**By pinkjinx876**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Story of Snow White, nor that of Snow White and the Huntsman.**

**Thank you for the outpouring of responses to this story! THANK each and every one of you for reviewing!**

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"Sorry," she mumbled again, as she righted herself with difficulty. Her shoes really were not built for this, and they were old and tattered from the many years she had worn them. They were far too small, just as her dress was too large, but at least the Queen had provided her with clothes at all.

She winced as she felt another blister break under her right boot, and began to wonder whether she should take them off and leave them behind.

The Huntsman seemed to read her mind.

"Let me see your shoes."

"Why?"

He glanced over his shoulder, bloodshot eyes telling her that he was not to be trifled with today.

She gently tugged off her boots, taking care to avoid the blisters, and handed them over. He shoved them in his pack after a quick examination that ended with a displeased grunt. He turned around and stopped, squatting quickly to the ground.

"Did the witch not even provide you with proper shoes?" he spat out, pulling her roughly to her feet and examining her wounds.

She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong, and she hissed in pain as he brushed his hand over her blisters and cuts. She was aware of a voice in the back of her mind protesting at the Huntsman seeing her feet this grotesque and dirty, but she shoved the voice away.

Why should she care what the Huntsman thought of her appearance?

"Why would she? I was a prisoner, I'm lucky to have had clothes."

"What did she do with the clothes you were captured in?""

Snow White scoffed slightly, before replying. "They were far too small, Huntsman."

This seemed to catch him off guard.

"…How long were you imprisoned?"

She stared at him for several long moments before replying, and he held her gaze the entire time. He would wait.

She was again debating over lying or telling the truth, but decided that after all he had done for her, he again deserved the truth.

"Almost ten years."

She quickly regretted her decision, as the air became full of foul curses, and he whipped his axe into the nearest tree in frustration. She had never seen him more enraged, except when he had slaughtered the Queen's messengers upon the realization that his wife could not be resurrected.

"Ten years, Snow? You've been in a cell for ten fucking years? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask until now, Huntsman. It's hardly an encouraging conversation piece."

"Ten years? Jesus Christ, Snow, what could you have done to deserve such a fate at a young age? You must have been only a bloody child, how old are you?"

"I am eighteen."

The misery was evident upon his face.

"Still so young, and such horrors already plague you." He paused for a moment, seemingly remembering something. "I am sorry to have judged you before. It appears you do know of sorrows."

"It is in the past, I am free now."

He looked into her face again, before he brought his hands down to her dress. For several heart stopping moments, he hands rested on Snow's thighs, and she found herself unable to breathe, or form even the most basic of thoughts. His eyes met hers and for another breathtaking moment they simply stared at one another as her face flushed a deep shade of red, before she felt his hands tearing off another, smaller strip from her dress.

"Don't flatter yourself."

He removed his hands and she found herself able to breathe again, as she watched him rip the strip in half. That was th second time he had ripped her dress shorter, and now it fell above her knees. It was positively indecent, but she would have to live with it for now. It was only the Huntsman who would see her like this.

The thought sent sparks up her spine, but she couldn't explain why.

"Bind your feet in this cloth," he said, handing it to her and pointedly keeping his eyes away from the additional inch of her thighs that were exposed, even though they were covered in tights. Her tights were ripped in several places, and he could now see some exposed skin of her thighs, just as milky white as her arms and face. He swallowed hard, pulse quickening as he tried to get the vision out of his head.

"They will help keep the blisters from getting worse, and they will do for another day until we find you shoes. You can't wear those old ones any longer, they must be years too small."

She did as he said, immediately aware that the fabric helped her blisters immensely. She took a few steps experimentally, before seeming satisfied. They would not hold up longer than a day, but she knew the dark forest was almost at its end, and she would soon be able to get proper shoes once they reached the nearest town.

The Huntsman took one last look at her, in a ragged dress that was full of stains, torn so severely at the hem that he knew in town the ladies and men alike would gawk and suspect him of mistreating her, and her now shoeless feet, bound only in thin strips of cloth.

He stole another glance at her legs, as she stepped and flashed a bit of exposed thigh through yet another tear in her tights. He wished dearly that the tights would rip all together, and he could lay his eyes on her creamy bare flesh, yet banished the thought shamefully.

He tried to keep his mind off of her legs by staring at her bruises.

How had the girl survived being treated as such?

What was so important about her that the Queen saw such punishment necessary?

He turned and stalked ahead, silently fuming as he went, only pausing to wrench his axe free of the tree.

The Huntsman stomped through the forest, though always aware that he needed to keep quiet to avoid calling alarm if there was anyone in the forest besides themselves. As he stalked, he pondered.

The Witch Queen had this girl locked up in her towers for near ten years, so Snow had never truly known freedom, it would seem. Yet she appeared to be almost unaffected, other than her quiet and innocent nature. She was not bitter, as he would have expected, nor angry or reclusive.

She seemed perfectly normal.

He contemplated how long a period ten years was, and shuddered. She had been locked up since her childhood, never allowed to grow, nor to learn of life, nor to love…

It was that thought that saddened him most of all. The poor girl had never had any real friendships, nor had she been offered the chance to form any real romantic relationships. The crushes of her childhood no doubt long forgotten, Snow hadn't experienced romance, and she was not betrothed.

The thought struck him oddly in his chest, she really was as innocent and naïve as she seemed.

She was not promised to anyone.

She had never been with anyone.

He pictured her as he had seen her this morning, waking up in his arms as he carried her through the forest, unwilling to sleep himself. Her innocent face, skin white as porcelain and unbelievably soft, her large eyes looking at him innocently, slightly hooded, with her wild raven-colored hair lightly covering her face. Her blood red lips parted slightly, revealing a pink mouth that he now guessed had never been touched by any man...

"Huntsman…?" she questioned softly, touching his shoulder as she looked to his face, bringing him from his memories as she asked what was the matter.

Her small hands…

He turned his face away, refusing to look at her in his current state of mind, least he ravish her on the spot.

Had he never realized the true extent of her beauty before?

She was positively hypnotizing, and here she was. Alone in the wilderness with him.

"Just counting the hours until we are free of the dark forest. I can safely deliver us from its clutches by tomorrow, but I must stop and rest."

She nodded slowly, and he set off, trying abnormally hard to keep his thoughts from centering around her perfectly shaped lips. He thought instead of how he would procure her gloves and shoes, knowing that he had no spare coins to purchase them, and that Snow had no money at all.

They were left with stealing or grave robbing, and with the Queen's man after him, he suspected that the latter would probably be their eventual course of action. Dead bodies were easy to loot, but the hard part is killing the ones with the good enough wares.

He contemplated grimly upon the fact that the easy to kill most often yielded nothing of value, but it was those that required every ounce of his cunning and strength that had supplies truly worth his time. He was willing to bet that the Queen had summoned men at the edge of the dark forest, but had she been so bold as to summon a woman fighter as well?

His gut instinct told him yes, and that if he were to win Snow a fair pair of shoes, he must be prepared for quite a battle.

They continued on for a few more hours, Snow White tripping less now that her boots were gone, until the sun dipped dangerously low in the sky.

"We can rest here for the night," he said gruffly, allowing his pack to slide off his shoulders as he turned to help her over a large rock.

She blushed slightly at the contact between their skin- she was used to her thick leather sleeves. Without them, she felt as if her arms were almost scandalously bare, and kept flushing at the Huntsman's touch.

Every time her cheeks reddened, he would gaze at her with the most peculiar look in his eye, and it seemed as though the air grew thicker as they stared at one another.

She had never been in such close contact with any man except William, but she had been only a child with William, and had never felt this way. The strange feelings building within her were foreign, but she was aware that with each day she spent with the Huntsman she was drawn closer and closer to him.

He touched her arm again gently, as she set stepped off of the rock, and something shot through her that she had never felt before, and could not explain. It had felt...good.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, finding shelter for the night.

The sun had begun to set, and she knew that it would be foolish to continue much longer, and an uneasy tension was already building in her stomach.

Their first few nights had taught them that the forest was a wild and strange place after dark, and that they should be well tucked away before the sun set, but tonight would be different.

The Huntsman had not slept the first two nights, but had continued to drag her about, carrying her when her legs gave out and she succumbed to unconsciousness. He was aware that they were being hunted, and did not wish to stop.

By the third day, he was desperately tired, and had fallen into a light slumber during one of their breaks. Snow White knew he would have to sleep soon, and upon his waking, she had gently asked him.

"Huntsman, why do you not sleep during the night? Why do we keep such a pace? Surely even you need your rest?"

He had merely stared at her for a few tense moments before nodding, then standing to continue in his path. He had looked over his shoulder then, and mumbled.

"I will sleep tonight."

She had known then that tonight they would have to take shelter for the first time before the darkness fell, but knowing there were an indeterminable number of hours of blackness awaiting her filled her stomach with dread.

Knowing that soon she would be sleeping within an arm's reach from the Huntsman also filled her stomach with knots that she couldn't explain, as hard as she tried. She had dozed off in his arms a handful of times before, _why was laying down with him any different?_ she tried to reason with herself. However, try as she might, the thought still sent butterflies down her spine.

She crouched low, crawling under the opening to a small thicket. Tree roots surrounded them, shielding them from sight along with the numerous blackened bushes.

"Here?" she inquired, squeezing into the small space and trying to make room for him to fit alongside her. His muscled arm pressed up against hers as he scooted into their shelter, grabbing dead branches and weeds to block up the entrance.

Once he placed the last few piles of dead grass over the opening, the small space grew much darker, and Snow White became aware that the sun would set in a matter of minutes.

"No meat tonight, but here are some berries," he said gruffly, opening his pack and cupping a small handful of blue and red colored berries.

She delicately reached over and plucked one from his outstretched hands, popping it into her mouth. She sighed inwardly, she never really liked fruit. It was far too sweet, too soft.

"Thank you, Huntsman. I can gather berries tomorrow, if it would be of any help."

"No need, by tomorrow we should have reached the edge of the dark forest, and we'll start up the mountains. You'll not find many berries there, but I'll catch us some rabbits, a fox or two maybe."

She sighed, and swallowed lightly.

The Huntsman misinterpreted her sigh as one of disapproval, and couldn't help feeling a bit jilted.

"Aye, don't worry. Once we are out of danger, and you are resting at the castle of your Duke, you won't have to eat my catches any longer."

She protested, but he didn't say any more on the subject.

She appreciated his hunting more than she could ever explain to him. Her guards had usually eaten large portions of her food, leaving her mere scraps to live on. Here he was, going out and hunting extra simply to provide for her- rationing his portions when his catches were small so that she could eat more than himself.

She was grateful beyond words. She only wished the animals need not suffer for their own nourishment.

They both looked up as the last rays of sun fell yet again, hoping tonight their shelter would keep them safe from the monsters and shadows.

He moved to lay down, hitting her legs with his own as he found space on the ground to lay down.

"Sorry!" she mumbled, quickly moving her knees and rolling away from him. It was a snug fit, but she would much rather be in a small space anyways.

"It's not very roomy, but it'll keep us safe. That's all we need."

"No, it's alright. Thank you, Huntsman. You are far too good to me."

"I've given you my word. I'll get you to your Duke safely, and I shall deliver on my promise, Snow. What good would this job be to me if I bring you to the castle stone cold dead?" he laughed lightly.

She turned and smiled at him, before realizing that her face was only a foot away from his.

Her thoughts from earlier came flooding back into her mind. Was it so different, laying down with him?

Yes, it was.

It was strange, seeing a man like this in the dark. Watching him lay down his defenses and settle down for the night. It felt too close, too intimate. As if this sight was not meant for her, but to be saved only for wives and their husbands, as they gazed at one another in the heats of passion.

There was no fire to illuminate his face, no daylight to make this situation seem less personal.

It_ was_ personal.

It wasn't as easy to pretend that the journey would end soon when she gazed upon his face in the sparse moonlight, aware that they were completely and utterly isolated from the rest of the world.

Herself and her Huntsman, completely and utterly alone.

He gazed upon her face, admiring the way the dark shadows fell across her features like a blanket of blackness. She looked so different in the dark, her features becoming, if possible, more enticing as she gazed up at him in the moonlight. She blinked slowly, and the familiar feeling of tension began to build between them, as neither could look away.

His thoughts drifted back to his earlier musings, she had never been with anyone before.

As she glanced at him in the darkness, looking up through her eyelashes to gaze at his face, she looked so enticing, so seductive, that the thought of her being untouched almost sent him over the edge.

She inhaled softly, and his eyes were irresistibly drawn to her soft lips.

"Good night, Huntsman."

He struggled to bring his eyes back up to meet hers, and couldn't tell if the shadows across her cheeks were just darkness, or if she was blushing yet again.

"Good night, Snow. Tomorrow I shall deliver you out of the dark forest, I promise."

He felt an almost overwhelming urge to gently push her hair behind her ear, but dismissed it with great difficulty. Such actions were far too inappropriate for simple acquaintances, and he wondered for a moment what had possessed him to have such a desire.

As he looked over at her, she rolled over, and he became aware of how her slender shoulders were now visible. He silently thanked the heavens that he had torn off her sleeves, as he now had a lovely view of her shoulder blades as they rose and fell softly with her breathing.

Her milky white skin was visible even in the darkness of the thicket, and he found himself transfixed with watching her sleep. She was of an unearthly beauty, the likes of which he had never seen, nor could have ever imagined.

Not a single person he had met throughout his entire life looked like her. No one came close.

He watched her slumber for a few minutes, before coming to the realization that the last time he had admired a woman like this and watched her drift off to sleep had been the night before his wife was murdered…

A sharp intake of breath broke the silence as he rolled over, grimacing with long suppressed memories as he gripped his leather vest in effort to stop shaking. There was no whiskey here to numb the pain, no beer to drown his sorrows.

It hit him that he hadn't drank since he had left town, and he was hit with stabs of withdrawal.

Silent tears streamed down his face as he remembered his wife.

Snow White awoke to the sounds of the Huntsman's muffled agony. Flipping over, she glanced over her shoulder as she gazed with shock at the man who appeared so tough, yet obviously hid so much pain.

She saw his shoulders shake lightly, and became aware of how his ropey muscles were tense and taut, as if he were fighting.

"Huntsman…" she whispered, reaching out her arm. In the small space, he was extremely close, and her fingers brushed his back questioningly.

He tensed more.

"Leave me be."

She didn't bring her arm away, but instead left it on his back. Shifting slightly closer, she sat up.

"Huntsman, what troubles you?"

"I said leave me be, Snow!" he growled, and this time she instantly recoiled, removing her hand from the small of his back.

They heard a howl somewhere in the distance, and she froze in fear. He immediately missed the heat on his back, and felt her terror at the wolf's noise. He rolled over slowly, aware that she would be able to see his tears glistening even in the dark.

He had yelled many times before, but for some reason it now seemed wrong to yell at Snow, especially considering how small and helpless she was here in their dark shelter. He didn't know what it was, having spent the last four days with her, or having his wife's image clouding his mind, but he calmed.

"Sorry for shouting, but please, leave me to my sorrows. I do not ask much about your past other than what I need to know, please offer me the same courtesy."

She remained quiet for a moment, and then spoke.

"Whatever troubles you Huntsman, it is not your doing. You are a good man, and you have been kind and true to me. May your dreams be light and lift your sorrows," she whispered slowly, then rolled over and clutched her arms into her body to keep warm.

The Huntsman watched her, small arms wrapped tightly around herself, and again thought of his wife. Of how she slept in a similar manner.

Of how he had found her body- turning his head for an instant, and looking back to find her crumpled on the ground, victim to a sword through the heart from a drunken palace soldier.

How ironic, then, that he had been ordered to capture this girl, and bring her beating heart to the Queen.

He would be sure to watch Snow more carefully; he would not let the Queen touch her ever again. She was becoming more precious to him with every passing day; he could no longer deny it.

He fell asleep to visions of his wife calling out for help, running desperately to reach her, but never arriving in time.

Like almost every night for the Huntsman.

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**A/N: Yes, I am aware that in the Disney Version she is only 14. But in Snow White and the Huntsman, she is definitely closer to 18. Plus- a 14 year old with that burly, manly Huntsman? I don't think so, I don't want to be arrested xD**

**GAME: As always,** **I will include lines from the actual movie and references to the Disney Snow White. If you pick up on any of them, leave them in your comment and I will send you a teaser for the next chapter before it goes up! Fun? I think so ;)**

**GAME CONGRATULATIONS CH1: (those who guessed correctly, in no order) crystalstars88, Guest 1, criminalmindsaddict, and BoOkWoRmAbC.**


	3. The Fire Rises

**~Ties that Bind ~**

**By pinkjinx876**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Story of Snow White, nor that of Snow White and the Huntsman.**

**Thank you for waiting patiently! I just moved, so things have been very hectic with a move, school, and a full time job- but I'm hanging in there!**

**Here is chapter 3, and 4 is on the way! **

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When Snow White awoke, a tingling feeling moving its way up the back of her spine alerted her to the fact that she was being watched. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep, and allowed her gaze to focus on the Huntsman.

He lay closer to her than when they had fallen asleep in the thicket, his face only an inch or two from hers. They had rolled towards each other the night before, and as she slowly woke, she became aware that her arm was entwined with his.

Her heart beat abnormally fast for a few moments as she realized that they were intertwined in such an intimate position, and had been for some time. The fact that the Huntsman had awoken and not corrected it made her heart beat even faster, and a strange feeling began to flood her gut, the likes of which she had never felt before.

As he continued to look at her, eyes burning with something powerful, she felt the heat travel right through her core, and down in between her legs.

Blushing furiously, she moved her arm and swallowed loudly.

What was happening?

"Yes…Huntsman?" she asked quietly, trying to clear her head, probing him as to why he was watching her so intently. She looked into his eyes, aware that they were very close and that her cheeks were still flushed as his eyes darted down and back to glance at their pinkness.

As his eyes flicked back up to hers, yet another wave of heat passed between them and she found herself unable to look at anything other than his eyes.

Again the heat traveled to between her legs, and it felt like her insides were on fire with want for something.

_What was this intoxicating feeling?_

"You were talking, Snow."

Her face immediately deadpanned, all traces of heat disappearing as she retreated into her shell, rolling over so that her back was facing him. She knew that she talked in her sleep; the guards had often mocked her for it.

She had started the nasty habit once her father had been murdered, and she had looked into his face as he lay there dead. Eyes staring at her, mouth slightly open as if he were just about to speak…to tell her he loved her…

"What did I say?"

"Oh, and why should I tell you?" he teased, his accent heavy. In reality, he did not wish to tell her what she had talked about, he did not want to upset her. But as she awoke, he felt he should at least confess to her that she spoke in her sleep.

He put his hand onto her shoulder and rolled her back to face him.

She glared and repeated her question. "Huntsman, _what_ did I say?"

He looked at her for a moment, staring hard into her eyes, before he sighed. The girl had indeed seen sorrows, he only wished that what he was about to tell her wouldn't make them resurface into her mind.

"You were, ah...mumbling about the queen. What that witch did to your father…" he trailed off, and Snow immediately felt her blood turn ice cold. Had she told him that her father was the King? Had she revealed her royal bloodline in her sleep?

The panicked look on her face made the Huntsman want to hang his head in shame. He shouldn't have told her.

"Yes, and?" she asked immediately, eyes flashing as her breathing began to speed up.

No, he wouldn't tell her the gory details. He would leave those out.

"Well, then...you started talking about me," he admitted. Which she had, after hours of mutterings and tears for her father.

Snow White wrenched herself free then, rolling over and standing up to crawl out of the thicket so that her back was facing him. So she had not revealed that she was the rightful queen, that much was a relief. Of course, she had to have talked about him, it was just her luck.

She dreamed about things happening to her, and things that had happened, and though the Huntsman was admittedly a huge part of her life, it still embarrassed her that he had overheard her talking about him.

She decided to let this embarrassment overshadow her sorrow, it would be a long, hard day if she dwelled on the pain in her heart left from thoughts of her father.

"I did not," she asserted stubbornly.

His laughter only made her flush further, as he followed her out of their shelter.

The Huntsman sensed that she was attempting to bury her pain, and he went along with the act, attempting to relieve her sorrows that he felt he had caused.

"Oh, you very much did," he teased, his accent again coming on thick as he chuckled. "Thank you by the way, for thinkin' I'm strong."

She stomped away angrily, too humiliated to slow her face until she could no longer hear his laughter and calls of "Snow, come back, it's a compliment!".

She sat on a large rock for what she knew was the better part of an hour, until she heard the Huntsman's footsteps and knew he had come to collect her from her pouting.

As she heard him approach, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead on her kneecaps. This whole trip with the Huntsman was very personal, and she knew that once she returned to her rightful place as Queen it was all that people would be talking about.

A young, virgin princess traveling blindly through the wilderness with an older Huntsman more than twice her weight and a good foot and a half taller than her, with plenty of opportunities to take advantage of her. She knew their journey would last a month's time at least, and this would no doubt only add to the scandal.

The thought made her blush, that people would question her innocence. That they would question what the Huntsman had done to her, and she would have to defend his honor, and he hers.

_What would William think?_

The thought struck an odd chord within her, as she found herself much less interested in what William would think of her situation than she thought she should be. Shouldn't she care more? Would this upset him? Did she even care if it did upset him?

She became so lost in her thoughts that she forgot the Huntsman was walking towards her until he had kneeled before her and placed his large hand on her shoulder.

She gasped and put her hands on his; expecting him to be one of the Queen's men sent to capture her, but as she thrashed about in attempt to hit him, his other hand caught her wrist easily.

"That is no way to throw off an attacker, first of all," said the Huntsman, pulling her up from the rock roughly and setting her on her feet.

"Secondly, relax, it's just me. Sorry about...ah, earlier, I just... I thought you'd want to know."

"No, th…thank you. I do want to know if I talk in my sleep. It's just, it's something very personal…"

"I know, and for that I apologize. I am your guide, it's not my place to torment you unnecessarily. And...Snow, I do apologize about your father. You didn't say much, but I assume she stabbed him somehow, and for that I owe you an apology. I should not have treated it so lightly." He looked into her eyes again then, and she knew that he felt genuine remorse.

It was an odd sight, a man such as the Huntsman looking at her with such regret etched across his face.

"It's alright, Huntsman. It was a long time ago..."

She tried to forget the vision once again, blinking away his dead face from her eyes before the tears could surface yet again.

He stared at her then with an odd look of concentration and pity, and she couldn't help but ask what troubled him so.

"I was just thinkin', Snow, how fragile you are," he grumbled, his voice tinged with an emotion that Snow did not recognize.

"Excuse me?"

"Just now. If I was an attacker, well…you'd be gone. You are so small, and all you have to protect yourself is me. Frankly, I'm not sure I can live up to the job- you know how much time we have left until we reach the castle. I just let you out of my sight for a hour, anything could have happened to you!"

She nodded in reluctant acceptance that the journey was still several weeks long, though her face hardened slightly at being referred to as weak.

"I know this Huntsman, but why do you bring it up to me now? I've noticed the way I slow you down, how I am almost incapable of finding food, how I can't fight. What am I to do? I realize that I'm a _burden, _but-"

"No, Snow, you misunderstand," he interrupted, lifting his hand up as to apologize. She backed down, and he continued. "I did not mean to insinuate that you are a burden, only that…I have failed you."

"How so, Huntsman? You have protected me from –"

"Yes, I have protected you. However, have I taught you anything useful? If I were to die this moment, you would surely perish soon after. I realized it last night; I have left you as vulnerable as ever. It was so stupid of me, to assume that I could keep you alive all on my own. What if I were to become injured? How would you fare then?" he asked angrily, his voice raising as she saw him berate himself.

He had a point; she had to admit to herself. She was nothing without him, and she _wouldn't_ last more than a few days without him. She could collect berries and nuts, but he was the one with knowledge of what was safe and what was laced with poison. He was the fighter, the hunter, the protector.

He was the Huntsman. So who was she?

"I would surely be dead if it weren't for your help, and I will forever owe you my life," she whispered, looking again into his eyes. "In no way have you failed me, Huntsman. I need you."

As the last sentence came out, she immediately realized that it sounded much weaker than she had intended, and with a lot more meaning than she had wanted it to.

"I mean…I-"

"I understand," he stated, staring at her blushing face.

He rose, offering her his hand. She took it, yet again aware of how small her hand was in comparison to his, and let him lift her off the ground and help her to her feet.

"I will teach you to fight today, Snow. You may need it in the near future. I mentioned getting some new boots for you…"

"…Yes?"

"I haven't the money for them, Snow. We may have to steal or-"

"I will not steal, Huntsman!"

"Even from the Queen?" he challenged, his once calm face flashing in anger. "You realize better than most what she has done, Snow!"

She thought for a moment, before answering. "I would steal from the Queen if I had to, yes. But think of the poor townsmen and villagers. Are they to blame for the Queen's wickedness? Shall I steal from them to right a wrong with the Queen?"

He studied her face for a long moment, at a loss for words. He had stolen his entire life, and never before had he regretted any of his theivings. Now, in a matter of moments, he regretted the all.

"Aye then, Snow. We have but one option."

"Yes?"

"The Queen will surely send messengers and patrolmen to watch the borders of the forest. We are almost through it, and with every passing moment it becomes more likely we will run into them." Her face blanched as he spoke, so he grabbed one of her hands and continued. "I can take them Snow, I know I can, but you _must_ help me. We must kill them and take their supplies, and then we can bypass the town all together. It would be the wisest option, by far."

Her face full of terror, she shook her head slowly in the negative.

"I couldn't, Huntsman. I couldn't kill."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking for your help. If I can teach you some defense, and if you can manage to slow the watchmen for even a few moments, it would help me immensely."

She was silent a long moment, distracted partly by the harsh reality of the near future, and partially by the warmth of his hand.

"I…will try my best to help you. I owe you far more than that, and if the men are loyal to the Queen, I owe them nothing. I will help as much as I can, and help take supplies."

He smiled at her braveness, and she felt so weak in the knees at his smile that for a moment she swayed gently, unable to support herself.

Again they locked eyes, and again the tension in the air seemed to appear out of nowhere, flooding every inch around them.

"Thank you, Snow. Now, we eat. After, I'll show you how to fight."

They spent the next two hours catching a small squirrel to eat, and the Huntsman demonstrated how to set a snare so that Snow could soon duplicate the process with her eyes shut. He showed her how to start a fire and how to roast it, though he was aware of the sorrow in her eyes at the life they had so quickly extinguished.

When Snow had mastered cooking the meat, and was able to tell when it was done, they ate quickly, both aware that soon she would have to learn to fight, and would need all the time they could spare.

As he watched her eat, tearing small bits of squirrel off with dainty fingers, savoring each small scrap as if it were an entire meal, he again wondered about her past.

Had she been starved? Was that why she was so small and frail?

As he watched the juices dribble gently down her chin, only for her immediately to wipe them away with her wrist, he came to the hypothesis that she was trying to eat politely while in front of him.

"Snow, you don't have to eat like that,you know."

"…Like what?"

"Like I'm someone important. "

"I'm not trying…I'm just eating."

"This is how you eat?" he asked, surprised.

"…Is there something wrong with it?" she asked, eyes big and curious as she became slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. Was there a proper way to eat that she had not learned? Was she embarrassing herself?

"No, it's just…" he ripped off a miniscule bit of his squirrel and put it in his mouth with a deliberately exaggerated dainty movement, wiping his lips afterwards. "We'll be here till nightfall."

"Sorry," she mumbled, head down as she blushed.

He kept to himself for the rest of the meal, though he had to try extremely hard not to chuckle at her attempts to eat like he did, especially when he had looked at her right as she was about to wipe away a droplet of juice. She had frozen mid movement, only to force herself to let it slide down her chin and drip onto her tunic. She smiled at him then, one cheek full of meat and her chin with a droplet of juice, and he felt something well up in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Her face covered in dirt and meat, her hair wild and unbrushed, and her clothes ragged and torn, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on, including his wife. The thought instantly plagued him with sorrow and guilt, but as he continued to watch her eat, the guilt slowly ebbed away.

He was not a man to deny facts, and the fact lay bare before him: Snow was the fairest of them all.

Was he not to be happy after his wife's death? Would she want him to be?

Could he be happy again with someone else?

The thought planted itself into his mind, and he couldn't but help feeling a tightness in his chest when he thought of Snow being in his life for a while longer.

When she finished, they both stood up and began their training, though the Huntsman couldn't get the thought out of his head.

He positioned her like she would be if she were being attacked, and grabbed her from behind.

"Try to use their strength against them Snow, like this," he said, demonstrating how with minimal effort on her part she could take an attacker down. He kept getting distracted by her legs, her arms, how she pressed against him just so…

"You raise this arm up, you block. Do you understand?" he asked, her face flushed from exertion as they practiced move after move of her blocking his attacks and sending him to the ground at times as she used his strength to her advantage.

"Now, if they are too close, and you must fight, here's what you do. You're small, so you wait until they are close," he whispered, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her body roughly against his, very aware of the small 'oh' she made unintentionally at the sudden movement, "Then, you drive this dagger into their heart. You don't pull it out until you see their soul, do you understand?" he grunted, gripping her waist and thigh as if simulating an attacker.

He could feel the heat from her small thighs pressing up against his legs, and the thought was maddening.

_Focus on the fight..._

She took she small dagger, hands shaking as she tried to poke it near his chest.

"No Snow, faster, I'm trying to kill you, remember!" he grunted, letting go of her and coming at her from a different angle, grasping her body yet again and pulling her close. He had gripped her hips harder this time, knowing he would elicit yet another soft 'oh', and when it escaped her lips, it drove the huntsman wild for a moment.

Her hands still shaking, she tried once again to push the dagger close to his chest, but he was too fast and blocked her.

He moved away once again, scowling, yet aware that his own face was flushing, and not just from the exertion. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he felt a spark between them that was part tension and part something else entirely. Why did he feel this way?

"Faster, Snow! You'd be dead by now! Do you want to-"

He was interrupted as she charged at him, catching him off guard. She raised her arm up as he attempted to block, then used his weight to throw him to the ground.

She scrambled on top of him as they landed together, her body fitting perfectly onto his, as she positioned the dagger above his heart.

They stayed there for a few minutes, breathing fiercely, looking into each other's eyes. Neither wanted to move away from the heat emanating between their bodies, but neither wanted to acknowledge the heat either, for fear of what it might bring.

Snow's chest rose and fell quickly as she panted for breath, her hair splayed over her shoulders and encircling her face. Her lips were parted slightly, a light sheen of sweat upon her brow.

Her face was a mere inch from his, and he could feel the tiny point of the dagger near his chest, but not in danger of harming him.

"You are ready."

He looked at her as she looked at him, and he moved his face closer to hers out of instinct. She felt her face moving closer to his as well, her eyes starting to droop closed, aware dimly that she was being pulled by some magnetic force towards the Huntsman.

Just as their lips were a hair's width away, Snow jerked her head down slightly, scared of what she was doing, biting her lip as she exhaled a tiny breath.

The Huntsman brought his own face down a fraction, nudging her with his cheek gently.

Her hands gripped his tunic, clawing into him as she closed her eyes.

She let her cheek move against his, tilting her head slightly as she drew in a ragged breath.

She lifted her face, looking at him again, their lips again inches apart, before she realized what she was doing.

Her heart was beating faster and slower at the same time, and she had never had so much trouble forming a single word or thought in all her life than at this moment, as she felt his heart beating against hers.

He tried to bring her face to his again but she moved away, suddenly aware of her actions as she scrambled up, frantically climbing off of him, eyes wide with fear.

"I…I…"

"Snow, don't-"

"I-I'm sorry Huntsman!" she blurted out, before fleeing.

He heard her noisily running through the forest but did not chase after her, as stunned as she was by what had just transpired. What had just happened?

What had almost happened?

He sat up and tried to bring his breathing back to normal but found that he couldn't. His heart was racing, and it wouldn't stop. They had almost kissed.

The Huntsman watched her fleeing through the forest, hair wildly whipping behind her as she ran away from him and out of sight, and again the feeling of tightness jumped to his chest.

Could he be happy with someone else again?

Could that someone be Snow?

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**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Ch 4 is already written, just grammar-proofing it! **

**GAME: As always,** **I will include lines from the actual movie and references to the Disney Snow White. If you pick up on any of them, leave them in your comment and I will send you a teaser for the next chapter before it goes up! Fun? I think so ;)**

**GAME CONGRATULATIONS CH2: (those who guessed correctly, in no order) ALL OUT TOMBOY, Eiko007, BoOkWoRmAbC (twice now!), Watermelonnights, and may cantaloupe. A huge THANKS to all who play my silly game :3  
**


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